Within seconds of the door closing, Sultan Murad Bayezid, accompanied by two of his fierce Turkish warriors, entered through the rear.Īlex swallowed the bile threatening the back of his throat and let his consuming hatred at the sight of Murad dressed in his white flowing robes infuse his soul. Alex silently heaved a sigh of relief: so far, so good. Paval glanced Alex’s way, took in his drunken snore, and walked past him to lock the door out onto the dock. Alex was counting on the Greek being too lazy to bother moving the drunken sailor-him-from the back pew. It wasn’t until dawn began to set the sky on fire that Paval, the tavern owner, began dispatching all the patrons from the bar. To any casual observer, he appeared to be just another seafaring pirate well into his cups. From under semiclosed eyes, he studied the activities within the tavern. The smell from the nearby dock was overpowering. At three in the morning the cicadas haunting the evening air were adding to the night’s disturbing symphony. His tattered clothes were soaked with sweat. Slowly, so as not to draw attention to himself, he moved his head, easing muscles now corded with tension as he lay on the stained tabletop pretending he was comatose from drink. He knew who would be coming for the girl.

And that was true, but Alex was also here for vengeance. The girl’s father thought he was here simply to repay a debt of honor. It was as if she was desperate to be heard over the din from the drunken men in the tavern below. The sound drifted down the stairs from the rooms above with fear imbued in every note. Her sorrowful cry filled the still night air, unsettling creatures both big and small. In all his twenty-five years, he’d never rescued anyone, let alone a young girl. Alexander Sylvester Bracken, the Marquess of Tavistock, heir to the Duke of Bedford, on no account considered himself a hero.

A Kiss of Lies by Bronwen Evans